


X Marks the Spot

by mutableMimic



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Bondage, Cunnilingus, F/F, Hand Jobs, Hyur (Final Fantasy XIV), Mildly Dubious Consent, Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Trans Female Character, tfw your wives conspire to give you a pirate roleplay fantasy behind your back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 07:16:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19421104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutableMimic/pseuds/mutableMimic
Summary: She rested her foot in Rosamund's lap with an impish grin as she worked her boot off, then did the same with the other. "Oh? Your eyes aren't the only part of you that wants to submit.""Ye...ye made a damn good case, Cap'n, 'mong other things. There's only so much a gal can take afore she breaks, y'know..." Rosamund flipped her hair out of her face and put on her most pitiful look."Oh, that won't do. I certainly don't want to break you," replied Qhota with a smirk that said anything but.





	X Marks the Spot

Rosamund awoke with a groan, as per the norm. As she tried to stretch, however, she found she could barely move a muscle. When she finally opened her eyes, she realized she was laying on the floor, hogtied.

Then she realized: this wasn't her bedroom. The crashing of waves, the salt in the air, the gentle rocking... Someone had brought her out to sea. The footsteps from behind her said she'd find out soon enough.

"Finally awake, are you?" The words were accompanied by a chuckle as Qhota stepped into view, dressed up like a sexy pirate captain from the feathered tricorne at her tip to the bust heaving out of her too-tight coat to the leather thighboots at her toes. "How you ever got to your position when you're such an oversleeper is beyond me..."

"What're ye talkin' 'bout, kitten...?" Rosamund tried to fight herself up into a sitting position and look up at Qhota properly.

"Hmhm...that's quite the familiar term of address for a fellow captain, isn't it, dear? You should have a little more respect for the woman who overtook your little _boat_."

_"Ah, kitten wants to play..."_ She scowled up at her wife. "An' who exactly do I 'ave the pleasure've addressin', then?"

Qhota stood proudly, hands on her hips. "Why, the master strategist herself! Captain Qhota Nelhah, at your service... Aha, though I jest, of course. For it most certainly will be _you_ at _mine._ "

Rosamund fought the shiver up her spine. "An' what makes ye so confident 'bout that, _Cap'n_? Y'think...'old on. Qhota, ye said? Ye _can't_ mean..."

"Finally realized it? That's right, my dear. I'm none other than Qhota the Collector! I took your ship, your crew...even you! All without firing a single shot. Your crew saw my colors on the horizon and knew what they had to do."

"An' what makes ye think I'll serve ye like them cowards?"

"No one refuses me," Qhota said, her voice low and sultry. "Even now, I can see it in your eyes... The desire to _submit_."

"Seven 'ells...ye can't say things like that t'someone!" Rosamund protested.

"It seems to me you aren't in a situation where you can tell people what to do, Captain Giantcleaver. Oh, though I suppose you aren't captain anymore, are you?" Qhota grinned widely, leaning down in her face, her fangs looking somehow bigger than usual. "No, I think a good role for you would be cabin girl. Though if you insist on misbehaving, I'll have to find something else to call you..."

"Oh, aye? An' what're ye goin' t'call me? _"_

"If you insist on behaving like this, I'll gag you and call you my _toy_. But if you can get your act together, perhaps you deserve to be called the captain's pet, mm?"

"...could find meself amenable t'bein' a pet," Rosamund muttered.

"That's what I wanted to hear." Qhota answered with a condescending pat of Rosamund's head. "Now, we'll get you situated for your little loyalty test..." She helped her knee-walk over near the side of the bed and left her sitting there.

"Any pirate worth her salt can dig up treasure, can she not?" Keeping her hat on, Qhota shucked her coat, tossing it onto the bed behind her, leaving bare the brassiere that hadn't been remotely hidden underneath. She rested her foot in Rosamund's lap with an impish grin as she worked her boot off, then did the same with the other. "Oh? Your eyes aren't the only part of you that wants to submit."

"Ye...ye made a damn good case, Cap'n, 'mong other things. There's only so much a gal can take afore she breaks, y'know..." Rosamund flipped her hair out of her face and put on her most pitiful look.

"Oh, that won't do. I _certainly_ don't want to _break_ you," replied Qhota with a smirk that said anything but. She eased her trousers down, revealing a couple things to her captive. First, that she had forgone panties. And second, more importantly, the X adorning her mound, shaved neatly into her hair.

Rosamund couldn't hold back her snort. "Kitten, what in the 'ells is that?" She guffawed hard enough to knock herself over, laying on the floor while Qhota stomped her foot in frustration.

"No, you didn't let me finish! I had a whole thing about digging for treasure, and X marks the spot..." She sat on the bed, looking down at her wife. "I was doing a good job, too..."

"Aye...aye, ye were. More'n good, love, _amazin'_ ," Rosamund offered, once her laughter died down.

"Sparrow helped me set everything up..." She tugged at her fingertips nervously. "I've been really practicing hard for this, Ros! I wanted to make everything special for you, and... I told her it was a silly idea..."

"It's a fine idea. An' I promise t'be good an' not ruin it no more...if ye 'elp me up, that is." Rosamund wriggled on the ground, looking up at her wife with the best helpless face she could manage.

Qhota helped her back to her knees with a sigh of relief, getting everything back into position. It took a few breaths to regain her composure, but when she next looked at Rosamund, her eyes were smoldering again. "As I was saying, _pet_..." She leaned against the bed, legs parted ever so slightly. "Someone like _you_ must be proficient in digging for treasure... And I've a convenient map, just for you. Surely you know what this means, mm?"

"But Cap'n, 'ow d'ye want me t'dig without me 'ands? I may be talented, but ye got me all tied up-like..." She struggled at her bonds, more for show than anything, even if Qhota apparently tied a damn fine knot.

"You're a smart woman, Rosamund. Surely there _must_ be a reason I haven't gagged you yet." She spread her legs farther with a throaty chuckle. "It isn't exactly some esoteric puzzle you'd need help solving."

Rosamund grunted her understanding and fought her way closer, kneeling at the edge of the bed in short order. Looking up from between Qhota's thighs, she couldn't help but grin. "Now, Cap'n...'ow d'ye know I don't got ye right where I want ye?"

Qhota ran a hand through Rosamund's hair, a sugar-sweet smile on her face. "That's the idea, pet. Of course I'm where you want me, because what you want is to serve me. The effort to make it seem like your own idea is commendable as it is amusing."

She let out an honest-to-gods whimper, a sound protracted by Qhota gripping her hair firmly and pulling her closer. As she collected herself, she placed her lips atop Qhota's mound, kissing the X that marked her spot before turning her attention lower.

Qhota was surprisingly wet already, a fact that brought a grin to Rosamund's face. Her kitten enjoyed this just as much as she did. With that in mind, she pressed her lips to Qhota's, tasting her. She lavished long, languid licks upon her slit, chuckling with self-satisfaction when she heard her husky moans.

She stopped when Qhota's thighs suddenly tightened around her head. "D-do you...do you really think you've done enough to _earn_ that laugh, girl?" She pulled Rosamund closer with her legs, stifling any protest before it could start.

Her tongue sought out Qhota's clit, rolling it around deftly. She grazed it with her teeth, just to tease, and was rewarded with Qhota gripping her hair even tighter, knuckles pressed against her skull. Rosamund's efforts redoubled, closing her eyes to listen to her voice become more fevered, more desperate the closer she got.

When Qhota finished, she had locked her legs behind Rosamund's head, riding her face desperately. Just as quickly, though, she pushed Rosamund away, gasping out, "N-no...no morrre!" She obediently backed off, letting Qhota writhe on the bed as she dealt with her orgasm.

"An' 'ow'd I do there, Cap'n?" she asked smugly, after the worst of it seemed to have passed.

"You..." Qhota panted softly, barely keeping herself composed, sitting up to look down at her wife, her _pet._ "It was...adequate. You may yet find a place on...on my crew."

* * *

Once Rosamund was untied, they laid in the bed together, Qhota's head on her chest, lazily stroking Rosamund's shaft. "So...you really liked it, huh?"

Rosamund snorted and kissed Qhota atop her head. "'Course I liked it, kitten... Ye went an' tied me up, bossed me 'round...hells, ye even rented a real ship for this! How long ye been plannin', eh?"

"Oh...a moon or so? It was mostly my idea, you know." She kissed Rosamund's muscled chest, looking her in the eye confidently. "Sparrow helped teach me how to tie knots, she helped me rehearse, she...helped me shave," she giggled. "But all of this? It was my idea."

She let out a groan and reached down to stop Qhota's hand. "An' who knew ye had just as much fun bein' all dominatin' as I do bein' dominated, hmm? I just gotta know one thing, love. 'Ow'd ye get me from home t'the ship _an'_ tie me up all without me wakin' up?"

Qhota glanced away, a grin playing at her lips as she continued to stroke. "I may have...drugged your dessert last night? You didn't forget I'm an alchemist, did you?"

"Seven 'ells, Qhota, ye...did ye _really_?" Her tone was merely awe. No distaste, no upset, just pure shock and awe.

"I knew you wouldn't get mad about me treating you like my _plaything_." She laughed as Rosamund grew harder in her hand. She responded by quickening her pace. "And we've talked about it before. You mentioned before, once, that...with a mistress you could trust, you didn't mind a little bit of drug play..."

"Aye? An'...an' are ye me _Mistress_ then?" Rosamund panted.

"Aren't I?" Qhota asked innocently. "Haven't I brought a literal fantasy to life, all for _you_ , my pet?" When Rosamund simply moaned in response, she continued. "It won't always be as dramatic as this, but I _am_ your Mistress, Rosamund Giantcleaver. And your Mistress has one final request of you." She tightened her grip around Rosamund's shaft, stroking with a purpose. "Cum for me. All those pent up feelings, all the fun you had being my pet... You have permission, dear. Cum for me. You've been such a good girl..."

With that, Rosamund erupted on her own stomach with a groan, pulsing and twitching in Qhota's hand. She caught her breath quickly, resting her head against Qhota's. "Any chance ye could call me a good girl more often, love?"

Qhota's response was instant. "Is there any chance of you _deserving_ it more often, Ros?"

"...point taken, kitten. Thank ye for ev'rythin'. I love ye, y'know it?"

Qhota just gave her a kiss and a grin. "Get yourself cleaned up so we can go home. You owe Tiny Sparrow a thank you, too."


End file.
